Harvest

   I throw open my windows, and breathe in the beautiful cool, crisp, autumn air!  I grab my children by their little hands and we go outside to enjoy the beautiful weather.  God is so GOOD to invent a season like fall!  He knew that we would need a break from the broiling heat of summer and He used the best of His imagination and creativity to make a season that shows the earth's beauty like no other season!  Sure, spring is nice (minus the tornadoes), winter is cozy (as long as you don't have to go out), summer is... (can't think of anything good about summer).  But fall is the best of the best!
   I enjoy watching the leaves turn bright vibrant colors!  I love the way the air smells so fresh!  It makes a grown woman want to spread her arms, throw back her head and breathe deep as she twirls in the cool sunshine!  That's exactly how I feel!  I feel like walking for miles and breathing deeply of the unique smells of the season.

Isn't it beautiful!

   You know, I think I enjoy the trees turning color more than I enjoy watching flowers bloom in the spring.  I can never understand why people insist on raking their yards in the fall.  The colorful leaves make such a beautiful carpet that lasts only a short time until God turns everything white. 

  Harvest.  I love harvest.  It's the pinnacle of the farmer's year.  The work of spring planting, the miserable labor of the hot summer months, all have their end in the reward of harvest!
   Do you see the picture of the pivot up above?  My farmer has been busy all summer keeping that thing going so that we could have a crop to sell.  In the intense heat (and it was intense this year), with little to no breeze to keep cool, my man worked like crazy to keep our crops alive.  Now he grins as he drives his big green beast through the fields, his hard work has paid off!  
   The steady roar of the combine as it rolls down the rows, just makes me smile!  I enjoy watching that golden grain pour out of the spout.  That's my livelihood and the toil and hopes of three seasons!  Makes me appreciate my man and his love for us as he works so hard to make life comfortable for us.  He is no slacker.
   As I watch the combine devour the cornstalks, I realize anew just what an amazing provider we have in our Heavenly Father.  We have good crops in spite of hard weather.  Only God could make us prosper after months of little or no rain.  He has been so good to us and we are so grateful!
  I so enjoy riding with my hubby or better yet driving!  My farmer tells me that I am just a peon and that's why I am relegated to "just" driving the tractor.  He claims that I must first work my way up the ladder before I am allowed to the hallowed seat of the combine operator. 
   I take every chance I can to remind him that until a few years ago, I had more combine hours racked up than he did.  That doesn't seem to count with him because I combined grass and not corn or beans.  (I have combined corn and beans, but he conveniently seems to not hear that little tidbit of truth.)
   I don't mind driving the tractor.  I'm not all that excited about unloading the grain cart, but hey, every job has it's drawbacks.  I spent a whole day driving the grain cart, yes, this is my beautiful green rig.



   I only had one mishap which I shall not tell you about because it would wound my pride.  The man who saw my little accident told me that "no one will ever have to know", he didn't even tell my farmer!  But as he was the one who insisted that I learn to unload on the semi, I'm sure that he wanted to keep my inabilities under wraps as much as possible.  (Relax, I told my farmer all about it!  And here I am on the world wide web telling you about it.)

   Anyway, housework pretty much stops during harvest.  That's OK because harvest is only for a short time and I am going to enjoy it while it lasts!  

   Well, I must go!  Yep, you guessed it...I'm going out to the field!   



A Dog in the Freezer

   So, I have this acquaintance, we'll call her Patty.  She called me up one day and in the course of the conversation, she mentioned that their dog of 12 years died.
   I congratulated her and asked how it happened.  This is the story she told me:
   Patty and her family were away for the weekend.  They left Foofie (the dog) in the care of their neighbor.  While Patty and her clan were enjoying themselves, Foofie was getting into some mischief.  Apparently Foofie found some rat poison, and thought it looked tasty.  Poor Foofie!  The neighbor came to check on the dog and noticed that Foofie poo wasn't acting quite right.  So she came back a few hours later and found that Foofie had succumbed to the poison.
   This poor neighbor lady felt terrible and called Patty to break the news to her and the family.  She was crying and tried to be oh, so gentle with such heartbreaking news.
   Secretly Patty was somewhat rejoicing because, while she liked Foofie well enough, she wasn't totally in love with the dog.
   Patty assured her that Foofie's death wasn't her fault.  The neighbor lady worked at a veterinarian clinic and suggested that since the family was away and Foofie was such a family treasure, that maybe she could wrap Foof darling up in a sheet and couple plastic bags and stick her in the freezer until the family got home to bury her.  Patty held a family meeting and they unanimously agreed to turn the dog into an ice cube.
   Now, this is the point in the conversation where I LOST it!  I am NOT a dog lover.  I dislike most dogs and Foofie in particular.  To hear that a sane, level headed person would even think about doing something like this is beyond my comprehension. 
   "YOU WHAT?"
   Sound of extreme laughter on the other end.
   "We had the neighbor lady wrap Foofie up and put her in our deep freeze until we could come home to bury her."
   I was almost speechless...almost. 
   "You have a dead dog in your freezer?  Are you serious?  Like on top of your food?  Stuff that you are actually going to someday eat?  Are you nuts?"
   More laughter.  I know that Patty is telling me this purely to get my reaction.  She is thoroughly enjoying my fit.  Some friend.
   "Well, Foofie was a good dog.  We had her for 12 years and the children loved her so.  Besides, she's double wrapped.  She isn't touching the food."
   "I don't care how long you had her, or how much you loved her or how tightly she's wrapped...to put a dead dog in the freezer is just wrong!  Oh, my word!  I'm having heart palpitations!  Remind me never to eat at your house again."
   "Yeah, it is a little disconcerting.  I went down to get something out of the freezer the other night and opened the lid.  I screamed and quick slammed it down.  I had to take a deep breath and remember that it's just Foofie."
   "Oh. My. Word.  Why don't you bury that thing and get her out of your freezer?  I wouldn't wait another day no matter what."
   "Yeah, I can't get to my bacon."
   "Gross!  You know what's haunting me?"
   "I can only imagine."
   "What if when you move her, her tail breaks off?  Ewwwwww, Gross!"
   "You're so over dramatic."
   "Well, she's frozen, and you know how brittle things get when they're frozen."
   "You're strange."
   A couple of days later Patty sent me a text, "Hey, we moved Foofie, and her tail broke off.  We are overnighting it to you."
   What a sick sense of humor.  Seriously.
   After 2 weeks of moving Foofie to get to her food, Patty finally got the family together to bury the dog.  I know it was this long because I kept calling her to check.  I could go into another whole spiel about that, but I will zip my lips.
   Foofie is now safely 6 ft. under and I am extremely relieved.  I shall avoid Patty's house (and especially her bacon) for about a year.  Give 'em time to use up all the contaminated food.

Yes, this is a true story.  Names have been changed to protect the guilty.